


Lost and Found

by kagaoli



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Advice, Coming Out, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotions, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Holding Hands, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance, Sexual Identity, Sexuality Crisis, Sleeping Together, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23371978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagaoli/pseuds/kagaoli
Summary: Oz struggles with his emotions; Sharon gives some advice.
Relationships: Gilbert Nightray/Oz Vessalius
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Lost and Found

"Sharon, I," Oz began, twirling both of his fingers around each other as if he was grasping onto them to keep a grip on himself, growing frantic between the minimal amount of time between his words, "think I might be bisexual."

Sharon looked at him for a moment and set down her cup; she could tell he was nervous, his hands shaking despite their attempt at remaining still on the tablecloth. "You're attracted to boys as well?" 

The blond winced slightly—he had been expecting worse, but it didn't seem like she was going to be hounding him about his immoral desires or whatever else he could picture his father yelling. "W-well, I'm...unsure, to say the least. I've always been attracted to girls—er, I'm sure you already knew that, Sharon—but it's not like boys necessarily...caught my eye." He paused, feeling a bit more relaxed now that the girl opposite of him was politely listening to his worries rather than arguing with him about how he was delusional and there was no way he could ever have even thought about liking boys (as some might have said), and leaned back against the chair. "In fact, I don't think I've ever felt that way towards boys most of my life. But—but there's someone who makes me feel...different. I've never liked boys, but he—I swear, it feels like some sort of revenge!"

"I presume you're talking about Gilbert, correct?" Sharon carefully held her teacup in her hands once more and took a sip, smiling as Oz's cheeks turned pink.

"Ah—um, y-yes, that's right." The Vessalius shifted in his seat, slumping downwards slightly with no concern as to how distasteful any other would've thought it. However, it was just him and Sharon, and she hadn't minded his comfort between them one bit, even if she herself liked to be more refined (though she, of course, was also not without her childish habits). "I don't know what it is—it feels like some sort of jealousy, like he's all grown up now, right? But then I just...I look at him and he's the same as ever. I won't deny that I used to think he was cute, but now—gods, I can't even describe it!" Oz, frustrated with himself, buried his face in the palms of his hands. He rubbed his cheeks for a moment, then looked up again and heaved a sigh from his lungs.

The girl could only chuckle, setting down her teacup for the second time to stand and brush off her dress. "I'm honored to be sharing such a secret with you, Oz," she stated calmly, moving over to the bookshelf that lined the side of her room, "but I'm sure you know that you'll get nowhere without making any moves yourself. Gilbert is...quite like a dog, if I may say."

Oz stifled a snicker; just because he liked Gilbert didn't mean he couldn't indulge in the mockeries towards him (all done out of love). "Yeah, that makes a lot of sense, now that I'm thinking about it. He was always like that, though—following me around and trying to protect me." The blond blinked, and then rolled his head back against the chair so he could trace the pattern of the ceiling with his emerald eyes. "Maybe I always felt this way towards him. I might've been so caught up in trying to get him to see me as a friend that I...just disregarded the way I felt and pinned it as the same."

"That seems likely," the Rainsworth noted, sliding out a book with a red and gold spine. She flipped through the pages, then returned to the table-side and held it out towards Oz. "This is one of my favorite romance novels—the scene is somewhat similar to your dilemma. That is, a character struggling to identify his feelings towards a friend."

Oz sat up and swung a leg underneath his other knee, taking the book from Sharon's hands. He glossed over a few pages, flipping back and forth between them for many silent moments before he shut the book and sighed again. "These kinds of things make it seem so easy," he complained, shutting his eyes. "It's so obvious that they both feel the same, so you're always left wondering why no one pipes up!"

The girl hummed in interest, bringing a fist to her lips as she laughed. "That certainly is the case, but don't you feel like you might be jumping to conclusions here? Have you ever even entertained the thought that Gilbert might hold feelings similar, or perhaps identical, to your own?" Sharon pulled out the chair beside Oz's own, and seated herself once again. "He was the first to rush to your side upon returning, even if it was under the guise of Raven."

Oz brought his thumb up to his lips and nibbled at the nail while he thought on it. "Well," he pulled his hand away from his face upon noticing Sharon's razor-sharp glare, "I don't have anything to refute that...but I would've liked to have known it was him from the beginning. I could've saved so much energy not worrying about him!"

"Oz, I believe you'd get much more out of expressing your feelings to him and not me."

The Vessalius furrowed his brow; he knew she was saying that to help him in one way or another, but he couldn't help feeling like she just wanted him to shut up. "B-but I—"

"Hm?" The girl's smile was always so petite and innocent on the surface, but one look at her told Oz that he was going to be forced even if he refused, so it was best to comply while he still had all ten fingers intact.

"Alright, alright, I'll go!" He grumbled, standing up reluctantly while rubbing at his forehead.

"Good luck, Oz," came Sharon's voice for the last time that evening as the boy shut the door behind him.

Now, he stood out in the long hallway of Pandora Headquarters, leaning nervously against the wall beside Sharon's room (he was almost certain the Rainsworth would somehow notice and berate him about hesitating). Oz grumbled quietly to himself and ran a hand through his hair, gently tugging at the strands. "Nothing like the present," he reminded himself, almost solemnly, and began down the hall.

Oz figured he'd start with the kitchen and make his way to Gilbert's room, as it was unlikely the seaweed-headed man would be anywhere else unless requested—or in Alice's case, demanded—otherwise. He poked his head into the room from around the doorway, glancing around the large room that merged into the dining hall on the far side. Workers were busy managing the dinner for the rest of Pandora's staff, but there were no inky, black locks that stood out among the rest, so the Vessalius quietly carried on before anyone had questioned his presence. 

It made sense that Gilbert had probably retired to his room at this hour—it wasn't too late, but many were already off to bed and Oz had felt a bit guilty in his journey to Sharon's room due to that, but she had assured him that she was not planning on heading to bed soon. Perhaps it had been to curb his worry, but all the same she hadn't changed into her nightgown yet and so he believed her (there was no doubt she wouldn't have let him in at all if she was already in her evening clothes).

Busy in his thoughts, Oz had found himself standing before the Nightray's room before he knew it. His palms were beginning to sweat—it wasn't necessarily the rejection that he was worried about, it was the way Gilbert would deliver it. The man would look at him with pity, hold him by the shoulders, and say to him carefully, delicately, "I'm sorry Oz, but I don't see you as anything more than my precious master." His heart thumped painfully in his chest—yes, perhaps he was precious to Gilbert, but there was no meaning to that word unless it met the same intensity as Oz's emotions.

Slowly, he reached a fist out and knocked on the door. "Gilbert?" The boy's voice came out softer than he had hoped, and it sounded much too fragile. "It's me."

The door clacked open after a moment, and Gilbert stood in front of him, perplexed and concerned. "Is something wrong?" He asked, stepping aside to let Oz in, who took a moment to actually walk past the man.

"Not really," the blond mumbled, looking to the floor; he began to feel a little guilty again, since it was clear that Gilbert had gotten out of bed for his sake. After all, the Nightray was only donning a white shirt and loose-fitting pants. "Sorry for waking you."

"Don't apologize, you're always my priority, Oz."

Oz felt his heart flutter—he was so prepared to be rejected, why couldn't Gilbert be a bit meaner? It was unfair, all of it. "Right...." He huffed softly and decided to plop down on Gilbert's bed, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it tight against his chest.

"Oz?" Gilbert repeated his master's name, although this time he was prompting some sort of explanation for the boy's actions.

"Gil, I...I think I'm in love."

The man flinched, his whole body going stiff at the proclamation—at the very least, he wasn't worried anymore (and if he was, it was for a whole different reason). He took a moment to pop his eyes back into his skull and wiped the dumbfounded look off his face; he should've known something like this would come up at one time or another, he just didn't expect it to be so...soon.

"I can't think about anything but them," Oz continued, beckoning Gilbert to sit beside him with a pat of his hand; the man obeyed, albeit awkwardly. "My chest aches constantly when I think about only staying with them as a friend and...when I look at them I can't help but feel like I have everything I'd ever want in the whole world." He paused, glancing up to meet the Nightray's golden gaze; the latter could tell that his words were sincere, and now they had both donned beet red cheeks. "Is that what love is, Gil?"

The man covered his mouth with one hand, and then jerked his head away from Oz. He had to answer honestly, yet some part of him wanted the boy to dismiss whatever feelings he thought he had. "W-well, I don't really know much about love, but, uh, that sounds about right...."

A moment of silence passed between them before the Vessalius tiredly replied in a hum and let his head fall against Gilbert's shoulder. "I see," he whispered, shutting his eyes. "Gil?"

"Yes...?"

Oz delicately took Gilbert's larger hand in his own, curling his fingers between the man's. "I'm in love with you." He could feel the man begin to tremble—some part of him wished to shrivel up in that moment, but another demanded him to stay put, tightening his grip on the man's hand for fear of losing him had he let go.

The Nightray practically had his eyes falling out of his head at those soft-spoken words, though they seemed to be ringing in his head louder and louder with every passing second. He couldn't manage the words to reply now, but instead covered his face with the palm of his free hand and turned his head away, gently caressing his thumb across the back of Oz's smaller hand.

That was all Oz needed in response; he didn't say anything more, neither of them did, and didn't need to. His heart was fit to burst at any moment, yet all the blond could do was puff out a few broken laughs at how utterly awkward things had become within mere seconds. Gilbert had almost gotten out a flustered protest to his master's laughter, but the swivel of his head met Oz halfway and the boy grinned upon finally giving away his first kiss.

"O-Oz, you—"

"Can we do that again?" The Vessalius interrupted, ever-so-innocently shifting himself on the bed so that he was leaning over Gilbert's lap. "Please?"

And, of course, there was no way for his servant to refuse a request that made his heart flutter in such a way. He let go of Oz's hand, very hesitantly, and instead held the blond by the shoulders; he was already waiting, eyes shut once more and lips puckered, and the sight was almost too much for the Nightray to bear. 

"Gil?" Oz whispered, beginning to peek an eye open when he felt warm lips against his own and let it fall shut again, squeaking softly and resting his hands on Gilbert's broad chest. The wonderful feeling lingered for many moments before the man tore away first, and they both looked at each other—tired, yet adoring.

"I—it's getting late," Gilbert spoke up first, removing himself from his young master to avoid any complications had a servant or staff member come to check up on them suddenly (unlikely, yet he felt the need to serve an excuse for himself). "You should be getting to bed, Oz."

Although he would've complained, the Vessalius only hummed and shuffled to the opposite side of the bed, pulling the sheets over himself. "You'll join me then?"

Gilbert pressed his lips into a thin line, flustered again by Oz's antics, yet he couldn't find a reason within himself to decline. "Alright," he breathed out, exhausted, and slid underneath the blankets beside the boy. "Just for tonight...."

"And tomorrow?" The blond teased, snuggling himself up against the Gilbert. "Night, Gil."

"Goodnight, Oz."


End file.
